The 11th Hour
by ari2266
Summary: Kenpachi Zaraki, Retsu Unohana, Yachiru Kusajishi, Ichigo, Shinji, Urahara, Yoruichi and pretty much the entire Gotei 13. For a proper summary - read the top of chapter 1. Real World. NOT OOC. All character will be staying within their character boundaries to the best of my abilities. Very few small changes.
1. This is the 11th Hour!

**Disclaimer - I don't own Bleach etc etc. **

**You know, I fraking love Kenpachi , but I never see enough of him in real workd situations, you know? I am going to write a story here, set in the real world, characters from Bleach inclusive – no OC's (unless useless background characters) and I'm going to bloody well enjoy it J If you're anything like me, and like a good real world storys, with all your favourite characters in it, staying IN character – you're going to enjoy this. Yes, there will be action, laughter, romance and maybe even smut. But I will aim to keep it as accurate to the character as I possibly can.**

**Enjoy, dear reader.**

**Ari**

* * *

One step further.

Sweat glimmered on his brow as he struggled with the situation he was placed in. The sun beat down mercilessly, the cloud shade avoided his position – mocking his predicament.

Just one step! That's all it took! Then... then...

Then he'd be inside. And inside was precisely where he did NOT want to be when he was running over an hour late to work. The alarm hadn't. Gone. Off. It hadn't! If it had, he would be at work on time, ready to start his shift like almost every other day. Almost, of course, being 4 out of 5 days of the week on average.

Ikkaku Madarame was not lazy. No sir! Indeed, he loved his job. The excitement of the stakeout. The thrill of the chase. The glory of the take down. The thrill of the chase. The fulfilment of receiving the bounty. And of course... the thrill of the chase.

That was really what attracted people to this job – hunting. Chasing. _Catching_. Being a bounty hunter was not the most glamorous, or even well paid job in the world. But it was exciting and it kept booze in the fridge – and if _some _people thought that wasn't enough, then _some_ people could go soak their feathery head in a bucket.

Ok. It was now and hour and ten minutes. No more procrastinating.

Taking a deep breath, and a large gulp – Ikkaku gripped the door handle as though it were his lifeline, and took the plunge into the dimly lit barracks of his life, and eventual death - '11th Hour Bounty Hunters'. Seeing the cold, yellow stare from the back of the beige walled office – he knew... it was going to be a hell of a day.

"Madarame! Where the fuck have you been?" The harsh question was barked at him from the direction of the cold stare. Oh thank all things holy... he might actually live to see tomorrow! Usually, his lateness was met with a sparring session, in which he was sure he would die during, every time.

"Sorry, Sir," The captain was always more lenient when they called him 'sir' or 'captain' instead of 'boss', "Blackout in my area. Alarm didn't go off." He knew the excuse was thin. The sheen of sweat on his hairless dome of a head would surely give him away!

Shockingly, the only answer he received was a grunt of acceptance, as the captain turned his gaze back to his softly glowing computer, a snarl alighting on his lips. Goddammit did that man hate technology! There were several separate offices that the captain could use to do his paperwork – but he refused to have a computer anywhere near the area he slept, and so with (perfect) common sense, The captain chose to work in the back room. This of course meant, that barely anyone ever stepped foot through the rear entrance. Only Madarame, Yumichika, Yachiru and Kenpachi used this room – the rest of the men utilized the main hall area in the front of the building.

Giving himself a mental high five – he wasn't genuinely afraid of the Captain, he was far more concerned about his daughter/secretary – and what kind of job was that for an 11 year old anyway?! – Ikkaku headed to his desk, avoiding the glare of the dispatch officer and his roommate, Yumichika Ayasegawa. Coffee. He needed coffee. The world could wait...

"Madarame! Makiyosuke! Get your gear. We got a class two repeat offender spotted in downtown Crewetteberg, five miles outside the city limits, and 5 days off his parole. It's time to suit up."

...Apparently the world was an impatient bitch.

* * *

Kenpachi Zaraki. Some called him the Demon Hunter. Both because of what he was, and of the kinds of scum he hunted. He was fierce, aggressive, fearless and powerful. He had a strong intuition, that came in very handy in their profession, and a terrible sense of direction... which made their job more difficult than it needed to be.

Everything, from his physical appearance, his reputation, right down to the way he spoke to his subordinates, drove fear into the hearts of men. God knows what it did to the women. And yet, though he was feared by all, even the police he handed his scum bag payload off to... his men loved him. No, not loved. _Worshipped_ him . In him they saw an invincible man, an unbeatable tyrant, for whom they would willingly lay down their lives. He cared only for the battle, and they shared in his glory. Of all the 130 men Kenpachi ruled over, he called them his army, and he was their Captain.

Makiyosuke, as the designated driver on this Bounty (Kenpachi only had a motorbike and boating licence) turned down the stereo as they entered the town, and listened to the final debrief points that the boss gave to his number two.

"Ok, you got that Ikkaku? Name: Maki Ichinose. Sentence included: armed robbery, dugs – possession and dealing, and finally... hohoho... check this – manslaughter in the first degree. Looks like we got ourselves a fighter." Kenpachi's maniacal grin widened and he turned to look out the window, his dark glasses hiding the eager gleam in his eyes.

Ikkaku grinned wryly, "That's why you decided to come along, isn't it, sir? You were itching for some action and thought this one might actually get to play a bit rough?"

Kenpachi's widening grin was all the answer he needed. No wonder the Cap' decided to come along, rather than send the usual five man team – he was looking to get his hands dirty instead of doing all that damned paperwork. Unfortunately, every time he left that to his 'secretary', it mysteriously became mixed in with various facebook photos, paint doodles and photoshop scraps. That pink haired little pain was, however, incredibly gifted in self defence – and no one – NO ONE – could show her disrespect... unless they thought they could out run Kenpachi's long reach.

That was one thing Ikkaku never quite understood about Yachiru Kusajishi. If she was Kenpachi's adopted daughter – left overs from a bounty hunt gone bad over 10 years ago – why did he let her keep her Criminal Parents' name, instead of giving her his own? Not that the history of the Zaraki name was very appropriate for a young girl – but still. He sighed and shook his head – time to stop day dreaming and get in the zone. Kenpachi gave him the rest of the debrief as they pulled up less than a block from the target house.

"This is going to be a playbook snatch and grab. I've had Ayasegawa check the plans on this building – 2 exits, front and back, plus one basement. I can see a single pickup truck in the driveway – but let's not take any chances. Check the truck first, in case he knows we're coming and is waiting till we go inside. While you do that, I'll take the back. I want you to herd him, and anyone he's with to me like fucking sheep. You got that?"

"Yes, sir – like fucking sheep." He wondered what would happen if this Ichinose fellow tried to jump out one of the windows... well, that's was Makiyosuke was for – stopping party poopers and plugging the leaks.

They exited the car, and strode purposefully down the sidewalk, splitting apart as they approached the property. Their appearance seemed normal… which was strange – seeing as they were doing a raid. Instead of body armour, Kevlar plates and side arms, the two wore their black cotton button up shirts over white wife-beaters, loose black trousers, sneakers, and they each carried a long wooden instrument. Kenpachi's looked like a battered old sword, notched and scarred. Ikkaku's was more of a spear staff, without the sharp head.

That was the signature of the 11th Hour business – hunters had the _option_ of wearing body armour and all of them were trained to use wooden instruments. Not only did it decrease the number of fatalities so they could receive their bounty, rather than a body bag, but it kept senses sharp – honed for hand to hand combat – and gave the members their self respect. _Any _maniac could shoot a gun, but not all maniacs could fight or defend with weapons.

Following his instructions, Ikkaku quickly checked the truck in the front drive. It was a pathetic bit of machinery – paint peeling, rusty handles and brackets, windscreen chipped – a lot like the faded blue house they were about to bust into. Finding the truck empty, Ikkaku proceeded to stride quickly to the front door, unshaded on the bare, barely grassed front lawn. Raising a fist, he rapped sharply on the door and called out loudly.

"Maki Ichinose! This is the 11th Hour! You are in violation of your parole! Come out, unarmed, with your hands in plain sight!" Ikkaku grinned, knowing the bastard was probably hoofing it to the rear entrance – where Kenpachi waited for him. He knocked again, and repeated the message – this time adding, "Or else we'll come in there and get you." He heard a scrambling, scraping noise from behind the wall. What the hell?...

A gunshot fired out through the wood of the door at head height. Ikkaku, instincts trained for years to prepare for this kind of thing, dodged to the side quickly. A flare of pain on his right ear. Shit… the little bastard grazed him! Preparing himself, Ikkaku took a running leap at the door and shoulder barged it inwards, using his not inconsiderable strength to smash through the rotted wood and straight into something soft and screaming. Great… another parole jumper who hired an armed hooker. Ikkaku took a second glance at the now unarmed and unconscious young woman, and sneered. An _ugly_ hooker.

A flash of movement along the hallway to the back of the house "Ichinose! Give it up!" Ikkaku ran in pursuit, knowing he was only the herder of the idiot sheep. The fleeing man was panicking, he ran to the back door, opened it and sprinted outside…

SMACK!

… well, at least he tried to. He stumbled back in a daze, wondering what he had collided with. Raising his eyes, he saw black… black… and a wooden 'sword' resting on an extremely broad shoulder, next to the carved, scarred face of –

"K..Kenpachi Zaraki!" Maki gurgled the name in fear, and scrambled back ungracefully. Kenpachi sneered at the fearful man, utterly unamused that this was the prey he had decided to chase. What the hell? With a reasonable rap sheet, 12 years in prison and what looked like an army haircut… he had expected more.

Ichinose suddenly dropped the demeanour of 'Frightened victim' and pulled out the .48 berretta he had been hiding in the back of his faded blue jeans. Ikkaku stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, but holding his ground. This was NOT how It was supposed to go down. Pointing the barrel directly at the bridge of Kenpachi's nose , he stood swiftly, but carefully. Without looking away from his target, he spoke to Ikkaku 10 feet behind him. "Not one move, or I'll blow whatever brains he has through the back of his thick skull." Ikkaku remained silent and still to his straining ears – and Maki grinned. He had done it – he had finally done it!

"Finally…" he said softly to Kenpachi, "Finally I have you right where you belong, at barrel end of my gun. Revenge is so much sweeter, isn't it Zaraki? When a well thought out plan comes together? I've been waiting, rotting in prison for you. 12 year. All for this moment."

"Sorry Kid, can't say you're my type." Kenpachi growled. This kid thought he had the drop on him – well, he'd play along for now – might make the take down last longer.

Ichinose gave a derisive sneer, the curve of his lip barely affecting his calm face, "Cocky bastard, aren't you? Well you won't be once you're dead. Goodbye Zaraki – I hope this is as painful as possible for you." Ichinose lowered the gun to aim at Zaraki's throat, knowing his hollow point bullets would shred the mans oesophagus and send shards into his spinal column causing death, or at least paralysis. He also knew that Ikkaku would take his life the moment the he pulled the trigger.

Taking one last look into Kenpachi's stony face, Maki sighed that he wouldn't be able to see the look of horror coalesce on the mans face – but still, would be worth it.

He squeezed the trigger...


	2. The Edge of Town

Or at least, that's what he was trying to do, when his hand suddenly detached, gun still clenched in it's grasp as it hit the floor with a meaty THUNK. Maki stared in shock at the loss of his hand and upper wrist – what the hell? Blood started pouring – torrenting – out of the open wound, and he felt the effects very suddenly.

Clutching his arm to his chest, he collapsed to the floor and curled into a ball, teeth clenched and breath hissing out in a rising sound, until he was screaming at the top of his lungs. He shortly passed into unconsciousness, and it was at that point that Ikkaku bent down and applied a tourniquet from the mans belt. He wouldn't die. Probably.

Kenpachi frowned and turned away, furious that the little scumbag had been so much of a nuisance, and not even much of a fighter! He was unperturbed by the sight of the gun. He had cut off the mans arm at the last possible point, to see if he would finally drop the gun and actually _fight._ But no – he had decided to take the weaklings way out and use a gun. Pussy. It's not like he thought he couldn't die – he knew the bullet meant for him was possibly fatal, but it didn't really matter when he could cut faster than a man could move.

He pulled the hidden sword out of its battered wooden camouflage and checked it for blood. Not even a smear. The slice had been too quick – almost surgical. With a huff, he holstered the weapon and headed back to the car, noting Ikkaku had already called the paramedics to come clean up their prize. As he passed Isane Kotetsu, the second in charge of Sereitei General Hospital, running into the house with a gurney and her assistant, he paused for a moment to scan the area. If Isane was here, that meant that Retsu Unohana was having a busy day – she didn't just send out her best medic for no reason. Either that… or she was having him followed again, knowing the kind of human destruction he left in his wake.

Kenpachi sighed. He hoped it wasn't the second one. The last time he was followed by Unohana's medics, he had unintentionally (well, almost unintentionally) frightened them into fainting or tears. One of them was committed to a shrink for six months, and under paid 'sick leave' no less! Hmph – weaklings – the whole lot of them. Not that he'd ever say that to Unohana. He had _some_ sense of self preservation.

Getting himself into the car – Ikkaku would travel in the ambulance with the 'patient' – he directed Makiyosuke to drop him off at his favourite bar, just inside the city limits. It was almost five o'clock, and his irritation at today's 'adventure' had not ebbed his growing headache one little bit. Yachiru was staying over at her 'uncle' Byakuya's penthouse tonight, with her school friend Rukia. The Kid always seemed to be making friends outside her age group, but as long as she was happy, he didn't care.

* * *

Downing his eighth beer in a vicious swig, and heaving his enormous frame off the bar stool, Kenpachi made his way to the bathroom, enjoying the smoky haze and heavy rock music playing from the junkyard jukebox in the corner. This was his relaxation time, and he was determined to enjoy it. The only thing more relaxing was having a quiet nightcap with the Kid, while she pretended to do her homework – but he was too restless for that kind of relaxation tonight. He needed somewhere violent – somewhere someone would get drunk enough to start a fight, and then he might actually get some of this tension off his back.

The only let down was that most of the drunks in this bar were off duty civil servants – cops, firemen, medics – even the occasional egghead who lived on the dark side. There were also the reformed scumbags – like that Urahara Kisuke. Hmph – everyone knows _he _only got off because of his connections to the (now retired) Senator Yoruichi Shihoin. She herself probably would have been thrown in with him, if it wasn't for all her family ties to the white house. Bloody rich people.

Kenpachi finished his business and lumbered his way back to the bar – raising an eyebrow at Matsumoto Rangiku, the bar waitress, to send another beer his way. She gave him her usual pouty grin and slid the bottle down the bar expertly. He flicked a few coins her way and nodded his thanks, noting not for the first time how the other men in the bar were falling over each other to get her to grin at _them_ like that. Pfft – idiots. She was just a woman – a well filled out, pretty woman, he supposed – but he only tolerated her because she was a solid drinker, and a reasonable fighter.

During one memorable session when she was clearing up for the night and her pipsqueak boss was counting the till, some stupid addict decided it would be a good idea to hold up the joint, probably to score cash for a hit. Kenpachi and Ikkaku were having a late nigh, and grunted as they realized they'd probably have to do something about the screaming, gun wielding maniac at the counter. But, before either of them could move, they heard the young owner – who hadn't even looked up at the crazy idiot – call out quietly for Matsumoto to 'take care of it'. Ikkaku scoffed loudly, but Kenpachi waited, mind ticking over all the details:

-Firstly, it was a well known fact that the owner, Toshiro Hitsugaya was not only a genius young businessman, for all his 18 years, but was in fact an ex-militia leader in his home country near the Siberian border.

-Secondly, no genius/ex-militia leader would decide to own a bar in a roughneck part of town like this, if he wasn't certain that he had the right kind of staff to protect his interests.

-Thirdly, only an idiot would hire ugly chicks to wait drinks at a bar, unless they thought all the extra booz and promo drinks were going to be sold to the rats.

Putting all this together, Kenpachi sat back, a stony expression on his face as he waited for this little charade to unfold. Ikkaku, taking his lead from his Captain, cast one last confused glance towards the man, then sat back and watched also.

The drug addled moron, wielding his .38 at the ceiling, barely knew what hit him as Matsumoto came flying over the bar, one hand braced for balance on the counter as she swung her body and legs over to kick him squarely in the temple, before landing gracefully on both feet. The man must have been dosed up on Methamphetamine's, because he had barely hit the ground before he was back up, charging at woman – eyes wide and staring, screaming insanely.

This time the strawberry blonde woman set her stance to basic hand to hand combat, and using a few lightning fast flicks of her fingers, hit various pressure points on his body, causing him to stop mid-charge, and fall to the ground, groaning in undisguised agony. It was just pure luck that a police lieutenant from the seventh precinct, Iba Tetsuzaimon happened to walk through the door, hoping to score a late night beer on his way home.

"Lieutenant, would you mind arresting this man? He just attempted an armed robbery of my business." That icy, calm voice belonged to Hitsugaya, who still refused to look up from counting the till. Matsumoto walked back behind the bar calmly and continued to clean her area, sneaking in the occasional Jaeger shot.

"If you could sling a beer my way, I'll take him right now," came the amorous reply. Iba wasn't known for his sobriety. A bottle came flying towards his head, but he caught it easily, and bent to the task of handcuffing the groaning man on the floor and collecting his weapon. With a small salute to Kenpachi and Ikkaku at the back of the room, and a cheeky wink towards Matsumoto, he left with his prisoner.

It was times like that which made Kenpachi realise just how much he had put into this city. The amount of security guards, cops, detectives, firemen and assassins he had personally trained over the years was equal to no other. His methods were bizarre – his results, unquestionable. He only allowed the best of the best to obtain a position of value in his city – no unworthy weakling would ever amount to anything but a traffic cop, if they couldn't pass basic training at The 11th Hour. Just like Iba had to.

"Captain!"

Kenpachi turned in his seat to focus on the fire headed man coming his way. He noted the tribal tattoos and crisp business suit, coupled with the extremely high trend sun glasses balanced precariously on his forehead. Renji Abarai, head of security to that Kuchiki princess, Byakua. What the hell was he doing here? Since his transfer from 11th Hour into high class protection, he generally stayed away from the lower class locales. The red headed man nodded in respect, and then took a seat to his left, raising his hand to get a beer from Rangiku.

"Have you heard the news?" He asked suddenly, making Kenpachi look at him with narrowed eyes. Renji took his glance as an answer. "They say Sosuke Aizen is back in town. Apparently he's already started reforging old bonds and making… new friends." He took a quick swig from his drink and staring straight ahead, continued to tell Kenpachi all the finer details he had heard through his various connections.

The larger man took it all in slowly, absorbing the news with a hint of anger. Aizen was run out of town 3 years ago, by a joint task force of police and special forces – most of them trained by Kenpachi. A lot of good men died that year. But that wasn't what made him snarl quietly…

"… and I got a text from Ichigo… apparently he's been asked to investigate the disappearances."

Fury began to bubble in the hunters stomach – a poison of aggression, frustration, envy and an old grudge. It wasn't just that Ichigo had been brought into this new Aizen problem… it was the fact that Aizen was the one Bounty that Kenpachi never cashed in. The slippery fuck had managed to evade him at every turn – even travelling illegally into the Sierra desert, to a sheltered location. _That_ little adventure was still a fresh nightmare for him. To this day, he had an aversion to sand.

But Renji wasn't quite finished, and it was the last note that had Kenpachi rising to his feet quicker than a man his size should have been able to:

"… there was also an attack by his people at Sereitei General today. Tyring to get out one of his guys from the psych ward – you know, Gimmjow? Yeah, well apparently, someone was doing night duty on the floor and… Captain… Unohana is in emergency as we speak…"


	3. Unohana's Office

"Sir! You can't just – Sir? SIR!"

"Quiet! Don't you know who that is?"

"Isn't that the Demon Hunter?"

"No way!"

"Look at him… he's huge! And all those scars!"

"What's he doing here?"

"Probably heard about the Director…"

"That's right – they have a history don't they?"

"if you call nearly killing each other a 'history'!"

"WHAT?!"

Kenpachi ignored the banter and headed to the emergency recovery ward. There were nurses and interns scurrying left, right and centre – but they pressed themselves against the walls and he strode through. He was usually terrible with directions, and today was no exception - it took him two turns and a dead end before he realised he was lost. Snarling in frustration, he spun around and stalked back to the main hall, where some quivering pipsqueak was sure to tell him where Unohana was located.

"Sir? Mr. Zaraki?"

Ah, Isane, she at least wouldn't shrink overly much when he spoke to her. "Where' Retsu?"

"Uh, she left recovery 20 minutes ago, and is back in her office. Do you know how to get there?"

Even though the question was asked politely, Kenpachi bristled at the implied criticism.

"'Course I know how to get there!" He barked, making the woman flinch, "Been here a dozen times before, ain't I?" Without waiting for an answer, he strode past her, long legs eating up the distance quickly. Within moments, he found himself outside her office door, and opened it without knocking.

* * *

The pale woman at the back of the brightly lit room stared at his intrusion, unimpressed. Her long black hair was neatly brushed into a plait down one side, disappearing below the edge of dark mahogany desk. She raised her hands from her paperwork and placed them neatly in her lap, appraising Kenpachi lightly. He hadn't changed one bit. He still wore his hair long and fastidiously groomed down his back, he still had his wooden staff thrust into the belt at his hip and of course, he still wore those damn dark glasses that made his eyes all but invisible. They only served to accentuate the scars on his face and neck – specifically the one running down the entire right side of his face, cutting his eyebrow in half. And of course the arrogance – he _still _wore that like a cloak, billowing around his form to intimidate and ensnare the unwary. He was fully aware of the effect he had on others – he just didn't care.

"Kenpachi. How nice, that you should visit. To what do I owe the honor " Her voice was calm and controlled. She had no reason to fear him, unlike so many others – but she knew from the set of his face that she wasn't about to get out of this without a headache.

Kenpachi for his part, saw her sitting calmly and in control, apparently unharmed, and instantly cursed Renji's name to every god in existence. He lowered his arm from his sword and strode into the room, flicking the door closed with the heel of his shoe. If she was going to act like everything was alright, he would do his best to break her tranquility.

"You think this is just a pleasant little visit? What the fuck, Unohana? I get this message that Aizen is back in town, and that his first little pit stop was here. I want information! How many attacked this place? What weapons did they use? What was their objective? C'mon – you must have at least got _some _information while you were getting your ass handed to you!"

Retsu Unohana was usually slow to anger, but something in his words stoked the fire inside her. "Pardon me, but I didn't get my 'ass handed to me'. I was outnumbered and taken by surprise – as any capable leader could have been. We have _both _been trained by the General at different times, Zaraki, you know I can handle myself. Had I been more prepared-"

"Then why _weren't_ you?" He said, voice rising in anger, "You know that you hold dangerous people in your psych wards – why weren't you more prepared? You should _always _be ready for an attack – you should _know _that!" He was yelling at her now, still standing, but had walked forward and now placed his hands on the desk, thrusting his face into hers.

Her eyes clouded over slightly, and it was her turn to allow anger infuse her quiet voice – but she refused to yell, it was at times like this she was at her most fearful. "That's what it really boils down to, doesn't it Kenpachi? You didn't come here for information – you came here to gloat about how I couldn't defend myself. I've got 8 stitches in my head – thank you for asking – because some brute decided to use a blunt instrument on me, rather than shoot me and alert the night watch. They snuck in behind me as I passed a fire exit and knocked me out for over fifteen minutes – taking the inmate, Grimmjow J. They were well prepared and very organised. Security got no footage, no alarms were activated and the cell door for Grimmjow - 'The Grimm Reaper' - was opened using a duplicate key – meaning they have a spy on my personal staff. Now on top of all of this I have to deal with _you _barging into my office and yelling at me for your own selfish reasons! Go home, Kenpachi – and take your emotional baggage with you." She stared at him calmly, liquid brown eyes incriminating his every move.

Kenpachi shifted back, standing straight and confused. Why was he even here? The woman knew how to protect herself – he didn't care whether she got hurt. He did care for information though – and he was going to get that one way or another.

"Stop playing the bitch, Retsu," He rested his sunglasses to his forehead and crossed his arms over his chest. "I ain't gloating, I'm here for information – tell me what you know. Were they _strong_?"

Unohana sighed – she should have known it would be useless trying to make him _feel_ bad – that man was as emotional as a rock. "Yes, they were strong. They were also _smart_. Whether or not there were 1 or 20, and whether all of those were geniuses remains to be seen – but they have a very able commander, that much is clear. I know Aizen's ways from the last time – he wouldn't have cared for a sneak attack himself – had he wanted Grimmjow, he would have walked straight in the front door on his own, especially if he was on his own. The fact that he had people do this for him stinks of hired hands – and that means he either had no 'friends', or is too weak to attack himself."

"He's not weak. That one has never been weak. He's been a sneaky, lying, backstabbing, traitorous son-of-a-bitch – but never weak." Venom infused Kenpachi's voice as he thought back to all those people that were taken in by Aizen's betrayal - so many of them fighting companions or trainees. To this day, they still hadn't recovered the numbers from their losses.

Unohana grimaced at his response - the man was still too personally attached to this, regardless of what he said. "That's all I know, Zaraki," she murmured, trying to urge him to leave by returning to her paperwork "If you want more information, go speak with Komamura over at 7th Precinct – his people were the first on the scene, and I think Nemu from Kurotsuchi's CSU Division was the investigating agent. She's thorough," a hint of a grin appeared, "and she's not scared of you."

Kenpachi snorted at Unohana's attempt at humour. Nemu was one of a handful of people, let alone women, who could speak with him straight and look him in the eye. He respected that – even if he hated the way she always acted so weak before her boss. The damn women was abused and everyone knew it – but she was a decent fighter, and made a world of difference during the cleanup after the Aizen incident years ago. She was just so damn _creepy_. It was as if he could punch her, but she would just get back up and keep fighting – usually that would be highly enjoyable in a battle partner…but with her, she just didn't _enjoy_ it. And thatmade it creepy.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi on the other hand was a lunatic – a well funded, scientific, genius lunatic. The man brought a whole new meaning to the title 'Mad Professor'. He got results, yes indeed, but his methods were questionable and his tactics were sometimes as bad as the crime he was investigating. Still, the City kept him on as the head of CSURWD Centre (Crime Scene Units, Research and Weapons Development), or as the other civil services called it – Cursed Centre. But everyone knew of his contempt for his predecessor, and the unconventional way he got his position. That was a memory for another day.

Lowering his sunglasses back to the bridge of his nose. Kenpachi turned on his foot and exited the small office, taking one small last glance at the quiet woman working at the desk. She used to be a total enigma to him, but as they grew to seeing each other from time to time, he had learnt how to read the subtle set of her shoulders, the way she wore her hair, and it was then that he saw it – she was in pain, real physical pain. She hid it well – but he knew weakness, especially battle weakness, when he saw it. He scowled as he exited the hospital, into the cool night air. Someone had hurt her, had caused her to seem weak, and he didn't like that.

Not one bit.

* * *

"Kennyyyy! I'm coming with you to work today, ok? C'mon – let's go!" Yachiru's high pitched, bubbly voice filtered through the bathroom door, where her extremely tall father struggled to pull the comb through his sleep tossed hair. He was bent almost in two trying to see in to the short bathroom mirror, and he once again cursed the fact that he didn't pre-empt buying a proper mirror for his bathroom when he bought the house. Finishing his morning routine, he opened the door, ignored the bouncing, pink haired girl (pink – why did she have to dye her hair PINK?) and headed straight to his wardrobe to get dressed.

"Yachiru!" He called out, stopping her bouncing, "haven't you got an exam today? Miss Ise called me yesterday _at work_" he emphasized the location – she knew how much he hated being distracted when he was working, "to tell me you'd better be there for it, or she'd put you on suspension." He dressed quietly, waiting for her inevitable response – would she whine, or play dumb today?

"What? No one told _me_ there was an exam today!" (ah, playing dumb it would be) "I haven't studied because I didn't know! Oh Kenny! You can't expect me to go for an exam I didn't study for! I'll fail for sure! And all because no one told me!" She pouted, and yet had a look of affronted anger that made her both seem adorable and justified. He grinned his shark-like grin and came out of his bedroom to star down at her – this time around, she had no-one to blame but herself.

"Now ain't that strange? Because your teacher told me that she reminded you three times before you left school yesterday – like she's been reminding the whole class for the last month. Are you calling her a liar? 'Cause that means I'd have to go down there and fight her for lying to me. And I know you like this teacher… so what's it gonna be, Kid?"

Yachiru stuck her bottom lip out, then grinned and scrunched up her nose at him, "Oh Kenny! You're no fun! I guess I'll have to go to school, huh?" And without another word, she grabbed her backpack and scooted out the door faster than his eye could follow. Little twerp – by the look of that pack, she knew she was going to have to go all along. Well, at least now he could get next door to the barracks and get the training started for all the early risers. Nothing like a good sparring session to get things going – and he had a feeling this week was going to be one hell of a week... and it was only Tuesday...

* * *

"C'mon Rookie – move your ass! I swear... why do they send me these weaklings? They'll never get better if they just crawl in the corner, not engaging!" The comment was directed at Ikkaku, but the glare was directed straight at his visitor trainees from Third Precinct on the other side of town. " I don't care if they're constables, lieutenants or the Old Man himself!" He walked towards the quivering mass, accentuating each word with a hard pat on the hilt of his 'sword'. "You. Must. Engage. The. Enemy. Or. You. Will. Die. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, WEAKLINGS?!"

"Sir, yes sir!" Their voices were high pitched in fear, and though there were over 30 men and women, the response sounded more like a group of 10 children. He snarled at them again, "I _said_: DO YOU GET ME?!"

"SIR YES SIR!" Came the resounding response. That was more like it. "Now! Our drill instructor Makizo Aramaki is going to show you the basics for weapon to weapon and weapon to hand fighting – seeing as your own Precincts will have schooled you in hand to hand already. I don't wanna hear one peep outta you between now, and when that clock strikes quittin' time – DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"SIR YES SIR!"

"Carry on." And with that he walked away, signalling Ikkaku to follow him as the barely competent Aramaki came in barking orders. He may have been 'barely competent' for 11th Hour, but he was more than enough for a group of Rookies from Third Precinct. He headed straight to his desk at the back of the barracks, where the hated computer rested - he needed to get Ikkaku up to date. Seating themselves, Kenpachi and Ikkaku divulged their various news from the previous evening – the Captain, about his visit to Unohana, and the re-awakened Aizen threat. And Ikkaku about his cleanup of the house, and being already informed about it by the paramedic Isane, when she came for their bounty, Maki Ichinose the previous day.

"I was going to tell you last night actually, but when I tried to call your Cellphone, it didn't go through?" He raised an eyebrow at his Leader, silently questioning the whereabouts of his phone. It was a running joke in the 11th Hour that the Captain had owned as many phones as he had taken in bounty's. Kenpachi scowled, "Ah shit, I dunno! I had it yesterday... think I may have left it at the bar when I went to Sereitei General."

"There was something else I needed to tell you last night, which will make you happy," Ikkaku really hated being a messenger, but he knew Kenpachi needed the information. "I got a call from Ichigo last night, late. He said he had a lead through his mercenary contacts about Aizen's grand re-emergence into our fair city. Said that he thought you should know, along with every other major player during the last time... the last war. Sounded like he had called everyone, from Urahara right up to the General himself." Ikkaku took a deep breath.

"Sir... he's calling for a Counsel of Chiefs."


	4. The Council of Chiefs

The day seemed to drag on forever.

After Ikkaku's shocking, but not unwelcome news, Kenpachi threw himself into his work – it was the only way to pass the time until tomorrow, when the Council was being called. The Old Man himself had phoned the 11th Hour, and advised him that the meeting would be held at the Generals Headquarters, in the center of the city. Kenpachi grinned eagerly, earning a scared look from his arms master with whom he was sparring. He was looking forward to seeing some old faces.

He knew he'd have to bring Yachiru along – but it would be okay, because her teacher would come along with the Principal to this meeting. He wondered if they would be able to get the Mercenary group to come – the ones who had helped them the last time. The Vizard were hard to book these days, if his contacts had anything to tell him about it. He was pretty sure Soifon would show – even with her battle injuries, she was a formidable fighter. He wondered if she would bring her doofus lieutenant, or if he had finally gotten himself killed in the line of duty?

Not concentrating on the battle at hand, Kenpachi lowered his weapon in contemplation, completely forgetting it was his turn to block.

CRACK!

The arms masters' wooden sword came smacking down on Kenpachi's left collar bone, surely breaking it. The poor man blanched deathly white and withdrew his weapon, scampering away and bowing in a submissive pose. "I'm so sorry Sir! I was using full force as instructed, but you didn't block as expected. Sir!" He risked a quick glance up to the Captains' face, wondering why the man wasn't roaring in pain.

Kenpachi grimaced, raised his left arm and wriggled it slightly, like he had a cramp. Men throughout the barracks had stopped to watch the incident, and were now attempting to pick up their jaws from the floor. Most of them had only heard the reputation of the Demon Hunter – of his extreme resistance to pain, of his willingness to fight with injuries, and of his apparent invincibility. For most of them, this was the first example they had seen of that reputation – and it was already far more than their wildest imaginations had conceived. The man's bones should be broken after a hit that forceful!

Ikkaku was sparring with one of the men who had stopped to watch Kenpachi, and gave him a sound rap on the head for his inattention. "When you're facing an enemy, you don't stop to watch everyone else!" The man turned back to him and readied his weapon, trembling slightly. Ikkaku sneered – when would these guys learn to _focus_! That was the whole point of honing one's skills! Once you learn to focus, things that seemed like luck, or speed, were actually just the training kicking in. Ikkaku jabbed forward with his weapon, and was quickly deflected by his opponent, which made him grin. _Although, I think I may be the only one with true luck on my side… _He though to himself, twinkling his toes as he prepared for another strike.

Meanwhile, the poor arms master was still bowed in front of his Captain. "What are you apologizing for, idiot?" Kenpachi bellowed, "That's precisely what I asked you to do! Full force, I said! No holds barred, I said!" He turned to the rest of the group in the training hall – most of whom had not returned to their practice. "If you all have been watching this, you have learned two things: ONE – When I give a direction – FOLLOW IT!" He flashed a quick grin at the man behind him, who had yet to look up from his bowed position.

"And TWO…" Almost at the speed of light, Kenpachi swung around, lifting his foot at precisely the right time to clip the bowed arms master under the chin, sending the man flying up and back, and falling into a dead faint against the rear wall. "…ALWAYS keep you're guard up – regardless of who you're fighting." There was an audible gulp, then a flurry of movement as the sparring partners began striking and blocking with even grater speed and force. Kenpachi grunted in approval and left the floor, heading back to his desk. He'd barely worked up a sweat.

* * *

That evening, the barracks echoed with exhausted and pained groans. The mood was sombre, yet content, and the beige walls of the back office were dimly lit by the glow of Kenpachi's hated computer screen, as he attempted to finalise his paperwork on the Maki Ichinose case. Pfft – just because _one little hand _got chopped off, suddenly the paperwork stack quadrupled. Bullshit.

Night fell and the kid came home, bouncing in the back door as usual, chirping about her day at school (conveniently leaving out mention of her exam) and wanting to know everything that happened while she was spending the afternoon at the candy store. Kenpachi gave her the updates in his short, abrupt fashion – he didn't hide anything to do with the business from his daughter. She grimaced at the news about Aizen, and blanched when she heard about Unohana.

"But she's ok? Yes? Should I go visit her? What candy do you think she likes best?" The girl prattled on – her way of coping with bad news. Kenpachi gave her a warm look, which most would mistake as a cold stare. "She doesn't need you poking around right now. Besides you 'n me will see her at the Chiefs meeting tomorrow." Yachiru nodded, eyes bright with excitement and anticipation. Tomorrow would be the decider… if they would be going to war again…

* * *

The sun rose slowly the next morning – too slowly for Kenpachi Zaraki. Today was the council of chiefs – and he was anxious to get moving. Fixing his long hair in a low ponytail, and hefting the kid on his shoulder, he made his way out the door, stopping for a moment to appreciate how quiet the world was at this time of morning. He wouldn't miss this quiet world – not when there was fighting to be done. The light finally breached the top of the towers across the wide street in front of his building, touching on his loose black trousers, black button up shirt and a strange ivory coat he wore with the Japanese symbol for '11' on it's back. He always loved the way that symbol looked – like a grave marker over a fresh kill. The sleeveless white coat he wore, however was a gift from the Old Man himself, and he was required to wear it to show his position, and loyalty to the city. The purple inner lining, and the symbol on the back were his own additions though – to show he wasn't entirely bought, and that he would make his own rules… under the radar at least.

Sliding on his dark wrap around sunglasses, and hefting the kid on his shoulder, he headed towards the black SUV idling on the side of the road – their ride to the Big House. Makiyosuke was their driver again today, and he nodded deferentially as they opened the back door and slid in – Yachiru instantly bouncing into the front passenger seat, much to Makiyosue's concern. He gripped the wheel a bit tighter and pulled out from the curb, heading into the city center.

The drive was easy, as they missed most of the morning traffic – Yachiru kept pointing out her favorite stores to the driver, demanding that he pull over so she could go shopping. Makiyosuke would sweat and apologize profusely, telling her that their meeting was starting in 15 minutes, and the stores were closed anyway. The conversation went on like that until they reached the front drive of the Big House, where a _very _relieved Makiyosuke dropped them off, and a completely uninterested Kenpachi grunted at him to be back at midday.

The Captain let his gaze fall upon the towering white structure ahead of him, the way it took over the entire city block with its sprawling mass of high walls, dark glazed tile roofing and excess of black suited security personnel that looked like secret service wannabe's. The city traffic passed by this building without really recognizing it – to the general populace, this was just another art-deco designed, Government Building. They avoided the block altogether, and instead kept to the sidewalk on the other side of the 8 lane expressway, where there was couture and high retail shopping. Indeed, people barely seemed to notice the building, the security – even the amount of high-end cars pulling up into the designated drop off zone, and their bizarre passengers.

"Kenpachi!" That voice could only belong to one person…

Turning his immense frame towards the noise, he stared in open disdain at the small group heading towards him from a large white limousine. Yachiru bounced up and down on his shoulder in obvious excitement.

"Ichi! Rukia! Pineapple!" Yachiru cried out as the group came to a stop about 6 feet from where they were standing. Ichigo Kurosaki slowed with well-deserved caution at the sight of the small lieutenant, and gave them both a smile and a nod. The Kuchiki girl grinned at Yachiru and nodded respectfully towards Kenpachi. The last in their small group gave a sly grin and bowed slightly, showing his respect for his old training master.

"Abarai," Kenpachi growled suddenly, making the red head look up at him in surprise, "You and I are going to have a few words after this is over." Renji audibly gulped and stuttered "Y-yes, sir." His confusion and embarrassment was evident on every tattooed line of his face.

"Shall we head inside, Captain?" Rukia suggested politely, breaking the awkward silence. Rukia always paid her respects to people of seniority, regardless of their class – a fact that didn't escape Kenpachi's sharp mind. The girl may be nobility, but she wasn't high-born, and she wasn't a coward. He respected that, and, nodding his ascent, the group approached the large glass doors which opened for them immediately. Security guards in the foyer stood to sharper attention as they passed – and so they should. All of them had to pass basic and secondary training with The 11th Hour to even be considered for a role in the Big House. Kenpachi was as much their Captain as their current boss.

They made their way to the end of the foyer and opened the large decorative double doors that served as the entrance to the main meeting hall. The hall itself was a large empty room, with high cathedral ceilings, piercing white blank walls and dark wood panelled floors. The main focus was the huge oak u-shaped conference table in the centre of the room, which opened towards the entry door. Two dozen black leather arm chairs were scattered evenly along it's length, with numerous smaller chairs tables lining the walls for secretaires and subordinates.

The area was already almost filled with a variety of colourful characters. Yachiru Instantly grabbed Rukia's hand and dashed off to say hello to her teacher, Ise Nanao, who was there with the school Principal, Kyoraku Shunsui. That man always dressed in such a… flowery way. A baby pink suit, which was set off nicely with soft grey shoes and tie, while his long dark hair was tied neatly down his back. In complete contrast to this, Ise Nanao was wearing a strict dark grey and pristine white dress suit and shoes. Her ever-present agenda diary and blackberry were in hand as she smiled politely at Yachiru and Rukia, while throwing sideways glares at her Principal. They had obviously had another spat on the way over.

Renji had immediately made his way over to his employer, Byakuya Kuchiki, who was conversing quietly with Toshiro Hitsugaya. Byakuya glanced at Renji, acknowledging his presence, and murmured something to him. Renji scowled, but nodded quickly and stood to attention a few feet away, his eyes scouring the room. Looks like he was stuck on Body Guard duty. Rangiku Matsumoto was nowhere to be found – probably looking after the bar while the boss was at the meeting.

He saw the Fireman General, Jyuushiro Ukitake sharing a laugh with the Police Commissioner (and Ex-Bomb Squad Captain), Sajin Komamura. Well, it looked more like Ukitake was the one enjoying the joke, as Komamura's trimmed red beard was only slightly tilted in a polite smile. That man had always worn his bomb squad uniform and helmet to almost every meeting, until he realised people accepted him for his skill, not for the way he looked. At a towering 7'2", he capped Kenpachi's 6'7" by over six inches. It wasn't that he was ugly, he just had numerous scars along his face which gave his a distinctly… vulpine look. That, and he was a complete Scotsman – covered in red hair.

His Lieutenant, Iba Tetsuzaimon looked expectantly towards Kenpachi, obviously hoping his best drinking buddy, Ikkaku had joined them. Not seeing his bald head anywhere, Iba frowned, and returned to his conversation with the temporary director of the city's Power Grid, Shuuhei Hisagi, and the well suited gentleman who was the temporary acting chief Editor of the cities' largest Media company, Izuru Kira. Kenpachi raised his lip in disgust – that company was just a cover for organised crime, and everyone knew it. Shuuhei was the _real_ media mogul – running the largest news website on the eastern seaboard, all the while trying to keep the Power on in an increasingly demanding city.

That boy was a workaholic, and unfortunately, to Kenpachi at least, he was also a weakling and a coward. His boss (that lying sack of shit, Kaname Tosen) had also been a Power plant workaholic, and in his early days had lost his sight and his best friend to an exploding transformer near the edge of the city. He had always said that he would continue to run the company – it was what his friend would have wanted – but now they knew he had all along planned the sabotage of that plant, and it had backfired on him. The guy was a damn arsonist who maintained a pacifist way of life to hide his darker desires. It was one of the reasons he had been so drawn to Komamura – his expertise of explosions whetted the bastard's sadistic appetite.

Ichigo had wandered away towards the shadows, where Kenpachi could clearly see the outline of a scantily, but very well dressed exotic woman, and her mysterious companion. Shihoin and Urahara – he wasn't surprised they had shown – but he was curious as to why they were sticking to the shadows. Seeing Ichigo's shocked look of surprise and happiness, and the way the woman smiled and how her dress curved at the front gave it away for him. They were trying to keep the pregnancy quiet. After all, a lot of people, some of which were in this very room, would love a chance to hurt those two – and a child is the perfect weapon. He sneered – for the ones who play dirty.

As Kenpachi mulled over the ramifications of Yoruichi's pregnancy, he noticed a small dark splotch against the wall behind her, about two meters away. So – Soifon had shown up after all. He couldn't see more than her silhouette, but he could tell she was guarding the senator closely – that woman had a serious honour code when it came to the ex-senator. He couldn't see her lieutenant anywhere, but he hoped the guy was in retirement – working in special forces just didn't suit him – he would have been better under Komamura.

He let his eyes drift over the rest of the crowd, and realized he was the last one to arrive after all. There was Unohana in the far corner, chatting serenely with her number two, Isane Kotetsu. He didn't wait for her to notice him – the contempt in the corner of her eyes was enough for him to realize that she knew he had entered.

Closer towards the entrance, and to his left was his one of least favorite people in the room – Mayuri Kurotsuchi. He was standing quietly, observing the gathering with his usual wide-eyed 'evil-genius' expression, completely ignoring his smaller companion and subordinate, Nemu. Though she was his daughter, he never failed to openly discuss how she was a test tube baby – brought into this world merely to push the boundaries of science. Just as he never failed to openly critisize and humiliate her at every opportunity. However, the small girl merely took it all in calmly – almost creepily – and acted like a complete android. No expression. No fear. No personality. The two of them were both in their CSURWD white lab coats, with Mayuri wearing a pair of large, blue ear protectors around his neck.

The room buzzed with activity as people began to head towards seats and settle in. Yachiru came flying towards Kenpachi, who told her to sit down and shut up in the chair behind his against the wall. The girl grinned, taking no offense at his words and sat down in the required chair with a small giggle. Only Ichigo refused to be seated – instead choosing to stand near the entrance, as he would be presenting the latest Intel, no doubt. The Old Man had yet to make his appearance, so the room was full of quiet whispered conversations and speculation. News was passed in Chinese whispers among the people along the walls, and water was poured into numerous glasses by the small trio of wait-staff that entered the room to attend to the delegates.

Suddenly, the relative quiet was broken by the creak of the large double doors opening. The seated crowd turned as one, questioning who else could possibly be attending – after all, wasn't everyone here? Eyes widened and jaws clenched around the room as one by one, they recognized the new intruders entering into their 'private' meeting.

The large, toothy grin of the leader, coming into the room (he lead his small group to the chairs around the lower end of the table) was aggravating to say the least. But it was Mayuri who broke the shocked silence of their entry, with his loud, screech:

"Why are the Vizard attending this meeting?!"

to be continued...


	5. Be Prepared

The atmosphere was tense.

"I _said_," that screeching voice came from Mayuri Kurotsuchi, "Why are the Vizard attending this meeting?!"

Shinji Hirako, the 'leader' of the famed Mercenary group turned his legendary toothy smile towards the CSURWD director. "What? Saving your butts last time wasn't reason enough to be included?"

Hackles bristled around the table. Kenpachi observed all this with interest – noting that the only ones who were offended seemed to be the people who sustained little to no injury. Ichigo walked towards the table, and opened his mouth to voice his obvious opinion about Mayuri's objections – but he was interrupted before he could begin by a loud and commanding tone:

"They are here at _my_ invitation, Mayuri Kurotsuchi. Do not think to question my judgment on this matter!"

Heads turned and bowed in respect to the old man who appeared at the head of the table – as though melting through the back wall itself. He was not alone – his constant companion and lieutenant, Chojiro Sasakibe, was close behind him – his heavily lidded eyes missed nothing in the room as he stayed close to the rear wall, behind his captain.

The main focus of attention, Genryuusai Shigekune Yamamoto (or, as Yachiru called him, Gramps) sat in the chair at the curved end of the table and looked out sternly across the assembled mass. His bright, intelligent eyes were nearly hidden beneath his heavy brow, but not one person in the room would dare to hide from that gaze – the first and oldest of them all.

"As you have all been informed, an old threat has returned." His voice was like heated thunder, rumbling through the room and scorching the ears. "The criminal, Sosuke Aizen, has come back to our city – and for better or worse, we are the defending line. You are all here for your contribution in the last war. You skills, courage and knowledge of the enemy and his tactics were successful in ridding him from our lives – but were NOT successful in the taking of his life." Bodies shifted nervously at the implied failure of the group as a whole.

"But, Sir – The Division Five Captain was equipped with a weapon and an army we were unprepared to fight. Not to mention, his, and his associates treachery was completely unsuspected." That voice of reason was Komamura, his eyes were dark and troubled – Kaname Tousen had been his closest friend, after all. "Given those circumstances, you would berate us for not defeating, let alone killing those who were once our comrades?" Jyuushiro was to the left of the big man, and placed a gentle hand on his arm, hoping to calm him.

"Kurosaki Ichigo." The old man barked out the name suddenly, bringing the young man up to attention, "Please begin." The strawberry haired man stood tall and addressed the assembled party in the same manner he always did – with no honorific's, but for the Old Mans':

" Secretary General – sorry," He smiled wryly, and there were a few indulgent grins around the table. "_Mayor_ Yamamoto and everyone… uh… else?" The room was such a mix of different professions that to try and group them would be incorrect under any circumstance. "A week ago, I received word that our enemy, Aizen Sosuke, had returned to our home. His strength and goal were unknown – but this much was said: He arrived with 5 old allies." A murmur spread around the outside of the room. Allies? Aizen _still _had allies? Who would want to ally themselves with such a man? Ichigo continued "Yesterday, these allies broke into Seireitei General Hospital and released the criminal psychopath Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. In doing so, they injured Chief Medical Officer, Retsu Unohana and got away without a shred of security footage." The room erupted with angry cries of denial.

"There is more." They fell silent as Ichigo indicated for Shinji and Urahara to step forward. "_Our _allies have gained more information since the attack at the hospital. Kisuke and Shinji will take it from here." He left the spotlight and returned his spot against the wall. Urahara stepped forward and began his report. "Through my own sources, I have discovered that Aizen has come here for one reason, and one reason only: Revenge. After his failed attempt to take control of the country, he retreated to an unknown location. We must assume it was there that he reunited with his current 'pals'. They have been identified as the trio of assassins 'Tres Beasties', their leader Tia Halibel, and… Yammy Riolga."

All eyes in the room shifted towards Kenpachi, then to Byakuya Kuchiki.

Kenpachi's look of surprise, and Byakuya's bored glare, were enough to tell everyone that the two men didn't realise they hadn't killed Yammy two years ago. They had both watched him fall into the sea while they were fighting on Aizen's private yacht. They had both laid killing blows upon him. And they had both immediately turned on each other in a vicious battle for superiority, from a long standing feud.

"And now," Shinji took up from Urahara – all eyes snapped back to him instantly, "There's been some news brewing in the underground. We haven't personally been approached, for obvious reasons, but I know of several other merc Squads in the country that have been offered a pretty hefty sum to join Aizen's little crusade. Mostly, they're just what we call Hollows – empty, but for the need for money and blood. But a couple of stronger groups have been contacted – you all know the Arrancars. Well, without their Commanders, the Espada, leading them, they have still managed to pull themselves a few contracts. Looks like a few of them might be against us again."

"Division five was disbanded immediately after Aizen's treachery." Komamura interrupted - as the Police commissioner, he had been charge of disintegrating the infamous Vice division. He had taken great care to eliminate every trace of the squad, and the drug they had created. "Kyoka Suigetsu and its formula were destroyed, leaving Aizen with no weapon this time. If he is coming – he is coming unarmed." Soifon scoffed loudly, and the large Scotsman glared at her.

"Regardless," Urahara picked up quickly, "You must all be made aware. An attack could come from anywhere at anytime, against any one of us. He wants revenge against us all, for one reason or another. And we need to be prepared." The silence was deafening as Shinji and Urahara retook their seats. Mayuri's eyes followed Urahara the entire time.

Ex-Secretary of Defence and Governor General of the Presidency, Yamamoto, stood up from his chair and addressed the assembled group. "This is as serious as it gets: I am immediately issuing orders to all here, that we must locate and arrest Aizen as soon as possible. Any and all means of capture are approved. Only direct interference with civilians is disallowed. Begin your preparations – we are going to finish this!" His fist came crashing down on the hard table, echoing throughout the room – war was upon them.

Kenpachi's grin on the drive back to the 11th Hour barracks was maniacal. _Any and all means…_he couldn't be happier. After the general had left the meeting hall, the various captains, chiefs and higher level personnel had trickled out one by one. Others had stayed to discuss possible battle plans and infrastructure liabilities. Yachiru, knowing Kenpachi would want to leave immediately, had called Makiyosuke to bring the car around earlier than advised. They were just exiting the building, and heading to the black SUV waiting for them, when it suddenly exploded violently! Kenpachi held his ground, and Yachiru, who was clinging tightly to his shoulder, manager to secure herself from the blast. Several security guards, however, were not so lucky – they were thrown back from the force of the explosion and hit the stairs and walls with dull thuds – knocking them out cold.

People came rushing out from all exits, yelling inexplicably and shouting into cell phones. Jyuushiro was already arranging fire trucks, while Unohana and her aide Isane were attending to the injured. Komamura and Shinji were barking orders, making their people search surrounding cars, civilians and alleyways. Ichigo came running up to Kenpachi, who still hadn't moved. "Kenpachi! Are you oK? What the hell happened?!"

The bigger man stared down through his sunglasses at the young Private Investigator. "Well, that's obvious, ain't it? Someone just tried to kill me."

* * *

Taking a cab was no picnic for Kenpachi. Most of the time, they were either too small for his massive frame, or they didn't want to go all the way to the edge of town to the barracks. This particular cab happened to be an unfortunate combination of both. "This'll be far enough. $22.50. You'll have to walk the rest of the way." The Captain didn't say a word – he didn't have to. Yachiru just started laughing. And laughing. And laughing. "You're are SO funny!" She giggled at the cab driver.

"It's not a joke, girl. Now give me my money and get out of the cab – it's too high a risk for me to take my car any further. Besides – four blocks won't kill you." His voice was firm, but there was a slight tremor when he looked into the rear-view mirror at Kenpachi.

Yachiru quieted down and tried again "I know we gave you the address, but we didn't give you the business name, did we? We're going to –"

"I don't care where you're going-"

"- the 11th Hour. You know that place, right?" Yachiru's cheerful grin, and Kenpachi's ominous silence had the cabdrivers' foot on the gas pedal before he'd realised he'd moved. They arrived with a small squeal of tyres in front of the building. The driver demanded no charge, and thanked them for their business. He roared away before they could reply.

They entered the barracks to joyous cries of welcome – truly, Kenpachi must have been the most loved commander in the city. Thing was, he still didn't really care – he just wanted to sit down and discuss the day's event with his men. And this was going to be interesting, as there were a lot of new faces in his squad. He gathered together Ikkaku and Yumichika and together with Yachiru, he told them everything that had happened, and was about to happen in their city.

"Ikkaku, I want you to address the men – a lot of them don't know what happened in the last war – I don't want them dying until I say so, you hear me? After that, I'll let 'em know what's happening. Then we start training – hard. All bounties excepting Aizen and his squad will be put on hold." The man nodded seriously, and stood up to begin barking orders. "After that, I'm going to let them know exactly how 11th is going to prepare this city. His lips curved up in a predators grin. Yumichika gulped audibly – he hoped Aizen knew what he was in for!


End file.
